How To Pick Your Wife
by ArtemisApollo97
Summary: It's D-Day for Hiccup! He must chose a bride! You know, in front of all the other tribes, that's not awkward at all. It only gets more awkward when there are three lovely women left for him to pick! Emphasis on 'lovely'... (basically a HTTYD version of my PJO Royals) written for Queen dragon.diva101


**For Queen 101:**

 **I own none of the canon characters, disclaimerdisclaimerdisclaimerdisclaimer, and original idea belongs to her highness above :P There is no sisterly bromance between Astrid and Heather in this (I don't know what the actual phrase is, I'm sorry!)**

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Stoick the Vast led his only son into the Great Hall, fingers caught in his beard anxiously. Hiccup raised a brow at him, trying not to laugh. He copied cheekily, getting his own fingers caught in an imaginary beard. Stoick grunted and rolled his eyes. "Nice talking to you too, dear father."

"Cut the cheek, Hiccup, this is important."

"Yes." Hiccup sighed. "The whole of Berk's future depends on me, blah blah blah. I've heard it all before. Gobber does a very good impersonation of you, can I say that?"

"No."

"Too late." Stoick glowered at him. "You need to lighten up."

"Says you!"

"I'm so lightened up, I'm the sun. Hey, there's Toothless!" Hiccup whistled and his Night Fury raced to him, knocking him flat and covering him in slobber. Stoick smacked himself in the forehead, once again pulling at his greying beard. "Yes, I missed you too." Hiccup cooed. Toothless chortled and shook himself. Hiccup used the winged reptile as leverage, pulling himself up to extract a towel from one of the saddle bags. "Look, Dad, I came prepared. Ta da!" He flicked the towel, nearly taking his father's eye out. Stoick _hmmph_ 'ed and sauntered off. "He's such a grump." Hiccup told his dragon, drying himself down. "Well, today he is." Toothless snorted. "Yeah, I know. Such fun. Choosing a wife. I envy you and your dragonness." The Night Fury whined, sitting up on his haunches to paw at Hiccup's hair, flattening the most of it. "Thanks, bud." Hiccup made sure the last of the saliva was off, stuffing the towel back in the bag. He straightened his clothes- very formal Viking wear, as he had called it, son of a chief thing. He even got his own fur cape to match his dad's! Something Stoick regretted almost instantly. Hiccup swiped his helmet and spent the next three hours pretending to be _Stooack da Vaaast_.

Hiccup hurried to catch up with his father, smiling at the other chiefs in greeting. He shook hands with their sons- whose names escaped him- and then turned to face the rest of the Hall. Today was the day that all those of royalty and of age would arrive to select a bride or husband. Those of chiefly lineage stood on the stage with their fathers, boys on the left and girls on the right. Those eligible for being chosen were either on the stage or the nobles and warriors waiting patiently on the main floor. They stood under the banners symbolising their tribes. Hiccup saw the Hooligans' and smiled. He recognised a few of the young men and women underneath and waved. Stoick cleared his throat. Hiccup blew a raspberry, making his father huff again.

The twins, Ruffnut and Tuffnut, stood next to Snotlout Jorgenson and Fishlegs Ingerman. Astrid- oh gods, _Astrid Hofferson_ was there too. Like the others, she was dressed in the finest warrior regalia, but she looked a thousand times better than everyone else put together. She waved at Hiccup. He waved back, heart thudding in his chest.

"Hiccup." Stoick hissed in his ear.

"Yeah?" Hiccup said distractedly. Stoick gripped his shoulder and Hiccup mentally slapped himself. "Dad?"

"This is _really_ important, son. I know you like Astrid, but you need to think what's best for Berk. You're going to be the chief soon. Astrid is great, but she's a Hooligan too." Stoick directed his attention to the young adults of the other tribes. Hiccup knew some of them, Camicazi from the Bog-Burglars, (with all honesty, he was amazed she was here. He had never met a more independent and stubborn young lady). He spotted Heather under the Berserker banner, something she had stolen from her wretched brother. She had polished her armour and sharpened her weapons, tall and confident. She smiled at Hiccup. Hiccup waved. He liked Heather, but... as a sister. Besides, they got along well enough not to have to marry to induce peace between their tribes. Stoick wasn't as reassured though. "Look, we have Kaimana from the Murderous tribe; Ronalda of the Northlanders; Neilina, Lava-Louts..." Stoick rattled off more names and tribes that went over Hiccup's head. "What about Nirupama from the Bashem-Oiks? Are you even paying attention?"

"Of course I am. Honestly, Dad, who do you take me for? Don't answer that."

"We've not got long until the ceremony starts, Hiccup. You need to make a decision." Hiccup nodded. "Kaimana?"

"Too murderous."

"Ronalda?"

"Her dad hates me."

"Neilina?"

"Her nose is off-centre." **(REFERENCE).**

"Nir- did you just say her nose was off-centre?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"No. Just kidding. Her nose is fine. But no. I think she heard me." Stoick groaned and hid his face in one mighty hand. Hiccup smiled angelically.

"Right, right... Nirupama?"

"I thought you said no to the Bashem-Oiks?" Hiccup said under his breath.

"Well, not exactly. But if we have to go to war, we could do without a peaceful tribe."

"I'd rather a peaceful tribe than endless bloodshed. Which one's Nirupama?" Stoick pointed. "Aaah... no, can't pick her." Stoick burned crimson, moustache bristling angrily. "Thuggory's got her sights set on her. That's like getting squashed between two mountains, no thank you."

"That leaves Heather or the two from our tribe, Astrid or... whichever one is the girl twin."

"Ruffnut."

"Her." Stoick agreed. A horn blew and silence blanketed the Hall. "Pick." Stoick gave his son's shoulder a final, sharp squeeze and straightened, hands behind his back. Hiccup was the youngest of the male royal line-up and the least Viking-like. That meant he went last. Just like he had said, Thuggory and Nirupama were the easiest matched. The others... not so much. Fathers and sons disagreed, argued, tribes would have started fighting there and then had Gobber not stepped in and bashed them on the head a few times.

They stood for so long, hours and hours, Hiccup was growing hot and bothered. Even his artificial foot was exhausted. He would do anything to take his new cape off, but Stoick had forbidden it. "It's a necessity." He had insisted. "You need to wear it." It was alright for those off the stage, they got to sit on benches or the floor, standing only when their name was called. Hiccup nearly had a heart attack when the heir of the Murderous tribe said Astrid's name. She stood, proud, axe in hand, shoulders squared, head back, ready for any challenge. But she was glaring at the Murderous heir, unhappy with his decision for all to see. Hiccup felt ready to pass out when she was dismissed.

Gradually, the stage cleared. Those who had chosen their future partners were allowed to take a seat with their fathers and discuss the finer details away to one side. Eventually, Hiccup was the only one left. He had zoned out completely by this point however, wishing to be flying high above all this chaos on Toothless, chasing Terrors, darting through clouds, practising stunts. Gobber had to call his name a few times before he got any reaction.

"He's not normally this slow." Gobber promised to the mirth of the remaining audience. Hiccup blinked and rubbed his eyes. "Son of Stoick the Vast, slayer of the Red Death, the boy that bought peace to Vikings and dragons, etc. etc. And yes, he lost his foot. I'm sure everybody knows that story." Hiccup hunched his shoulders. Stoick coughed. Muscles complaining, Hiccup stood straight, mentally sighing and cursing. Everything hurt standing this still for so long. "Take him." Gobber said seriously. "I don't care who, just someone take him out from under me feet."

"Gobber!" Stoick reprimanded.

"Ye don't work with 'im in the forges, Stoick! That boy of yers is... he's in three different places at once!"

"It's Hiccup, what do you expect?"

"I'm right here." Stoick shushed him. "Rude." Hiccup muttered.

"Has Hiccup made any decisions?" Gobber asked Stoick. Hiccup opened his mouth to say something. Gobber shot him a pointed look and he shut it again. He wasn't supposed to talk. The 'adults' were supposed to sort this out.

"We've narrowed it down to three candidates. Hiccup has few or no problems with the majority of present tribes, so marrying for peace is not essential. On the other hand, should the need arise, an extra supply of men and resources for an army would be most ideal." Hiccup fumed and frowned over his shoulder. Stoick ignored him, calling on Heather, Ruffnut and Astrid. The women stood. A dead man could have easily sensed the animosity between Heather and Astrid. Ruffnut stood uneasily, grimacing when Hiccup caught her eye. He returned a similar expression. Like Heather, Ruffnut was a sister to him in her own bizarre fashion. He had kind of adopted the Thornston twins as his siblings, making sure they mostly kept out of _big_ trouble.

"Dad." Hiccup hissed. "Ruff's... not... Dad!"

"Too late." Stoick muttered back.

"Very clever." Hiccup grumbled. He gave his best apologetic look to Ruffnut. She stuck her tongue out and struck a sassy pose, making the heir snort with laughter. Hiccup hastily turned it into a cough under his father's glower.

"Well, this is interesting." Gobber sighed. "Hiccup?"

"I don't know."

"Yer only useful in a crisis." Gobber shook his head. He pulled a scroll from his belt and checked the rules. "In that case, a tournament may be called. The victor will be yer wife. Sound good?"

"Eh." Hiccup shrugged.

"Yes it does." Stoick said firmly. "What kind of tournament?"

"Uh, that depends on yer boy there, Stoick."

"Oh gods help us all..."


End file.
